


Down Under

by Reality 2_0 (reality_2_0)



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 02:49:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17153888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reality_2_0/pseuds/Reality%202_0
Summary: set WH years





	Down Under

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas (to everyone celebrating it).  
> Thank you all for your comments and kudos this year! They are very much appreciated.

Hearing the door close, he looked up from the file he had been reading and saw his wife standing by the door.

“Sorry for being late, Mister President,” she said.

He tried to remember if they had had an appointment or if he had called for her earlier, but came up empty. As he was about to ask her, he noticed her appearing unusually shy. Hair in a ponytail was not her usually choice for a day at the office. The same could be said about her clothes: two more buttons undone than normal, her skirt more swing style than suit skirt. All taken together, she looked more youthful, more carefree than people were used to seeing her around the West Wing; she looked playful. And there was the keyword. She wanted to play, and he had no intention of being a spoilsport.

“Well, make sure it doesn’t happen again. I am a busy man.”

“Yes, Mister President.” She sauntered away from the door, closer to the desk. “Is there any way I could make it up to you?” She looked at him through her thick lashes.

He almost groaned at the sight she presented. Such a temptress. Good thing not many people knew that.

“Maybe,” he said. “What do you deem a suitable apology for your tardiness?”

She rounded the desk, pushed his chair back by the arm rests and sank to her knees in front of him, slightly ducking under the desk in the process.

“May I, please?” she asked for his permission to continue.

His heartbeat speeding up in anticipation, he nodded, leaned back in the chair, legs spread, framing her.

She reached for his tented crotch, lowered the strained zipper, and freed his hard cock from its confines, stroking it lightly.

Now, he couldn’t hold back the moan any longer. The view, the touch, her licking her lower lip – it was too much, yet not enough. The more she gave, the more he wanted.

Encouraged by his blissful sounds, her touch became firmer, surer as she continued to stroke up and down his length.

“Permission to use my mouth, sir?” she asked, her tone and expression as innocent as the situation was not.

He swallowed hard. “Granted,” he croaked.

She beamed at him. Leaning forward, she licked the tip of his penis before closing her lips around it. While making sure to hold eye contact with him, she treated his member like a lollipop.

He didn’t know for how long she kept that up until he requested, demanded, “More.”

“Of course, sir” was her sweet reply, then she proceeded to take him in deeper.

He tried his best to keep his hips still, but didn’t succeed, occasionally thrust into her hot mouth which was all too inviting. However, she didn’t complain, welcomed him, sucked him harder.

Fuck, she was good. Oh so good.

For as long as possible, he kept his eyes open, his gaze focused on her to drink in the sight, to let it enhance his pleasure. Eventually, though, the sensations she created became too much, too strong, too overwhelming.

Concentrating on the approaching orgasm, he closed his eyes, let the feeling of ecstasy wash over him completely. With a loud groan, he came hard, long, down her throat.

“Bill?”

Startled, he opened his eyes, found her in a suit standing beside him.

“Do I even want to know what you were thinking about?” she asked as she leaned against the desk. The tone of her voice indicated that she had a pretty good idea what it might have been.

“Probably not,” he admitted, but unashamedly eyed her with desire.

“Down, boy,” she rebuffed him, albeit with a smile. “You got a meeting with the Joint Chiefs that you’ll be late for if you don’t get moving. I just wanted to drop this off.” With a certain amount of flourish, she dropped a folder on his desk.

He looked at it and then at her, a question in his eyes.

“Your remarks for the Rose Garden event later,” she informed him.

His face showed recognition. Nodding, he thanked her.

She held out a hand to him. “C’mon, I’ll walk with you.”

He took the offered hand, kissed it, and got up. Lacing their fingers, he accompanied her to the door and outside.

“So… whatcha up to later?” he asked, his meaning clear.

“I do have the afternoon off. Everything else depends on whether my husband will get home on time.”

“He will. He definitely will,” he assured her.

“In that case, see you later.” She stretched to kiss him quickly.

“I look forward to it.”

They shared a final smile and went into separate directions.

The End.


End file.
